


The Fool Gains Wisdom (Gaining Wisdom Hurts)

by AngeNoir



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Brotherhood, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Jealousy, body image issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:15:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fili is just jealous that all the dwarrowdams like Kili better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fool Gains Wisdom (Gaining Wisdom Hurts)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired and intended as a fill for this hobbit kink meme prompt:
> 
>  
> 
> _Kíli is quite popular with the lady Dwarves. In fact he's so popular it's going to his head a bit, negating his friendly nature and being a prick to his brother sometimes._
> 
>  
> 
> _One day Kíli learns the truth though, after a drunken tumble with a local Dwarrowdam, "It's true what the girls say, you do have a big hammer hiding in your breeches. Doesn't make up for that rake thin body and measly stubble if you don't know how to use it, though!"_
> 
>  
> 
> _Kíli is crushed._
> 
>  
> 
> Written a) between the hours of 1am and 3am, so if there are typos and/or weird sentences that don't make sense, PLEASE let me know, b) as my second foray into this fandom, so I'm still shaky on POV and tone, and c) part of this month's goal to write something post-able every day. (Intended for 8/2, and yes I know it's 8/3 at the moment.)

Kili could remember, ten or fifteen years back, when Fili would throw on his fur coat and sheathe his knife in his belt. Kili, still very young for a dwarrow, would beg and plead to go with Fili. He didn’t like being left alone, didn’t like having a bedtime enforced when Fili got to go out to the local pub and be with his friends. Their mother would scold Kili, and gently push Fili out the door before giving Kili a tongue-lashing.

This was at the same time, of course, that Fili was apprenticing with Dwalin and Thorin in the forge. Thorin and Dwalin would often travel around a bit, making their way through the world, before returning to the Iron Hills and teaching Fili some more skills. Kili was never invited, though he knew part of it was simply because Kili had not the temperament to stand before the forge all day without fidgeting and losing his focus.

That didn’t change the fact that it felt as if Fili was the favored child, the one everyone wanted to talk to and be around, and that it felt as if Kili was just the afterthought, the tag-along. Fili was golden and perfect and definitely their father’s son – Kili was too dark, to be anything but a throwback to Thror, the dwarven king that had doomed the dwarves of Erebor, and too small to even be seen as a dwarf, sometimes. Certainly Dwalin would crack jokes, and some of the sharper-tongued friends of Fili referenced his lack of a large nose, or large ears, or a large beard, often enough.

Now, though, he was old enough that their mother sighed and clucked her tongue but otherwise did not keep Kili from sheathing his own knife in his belt and going down to the pub himself. And he was… wild, to say the least.

He didn’t even really have an excuse for it. It was just – the sights, the dwarrowdams, the ale, the hearty companionship and easy laughter. Kili had imagined Fili taking part in this aspect of dwarvish culture, but it appeared that Fili would drink quietly with a few of his close friends, chatting easily. Kili, meanwhile, could always be found in the center of the loudest, most boisterous crowd. They accepted him easily, didn’t crack jokes about him, even as Fili’s group remained aloof and separate from the rest of the crowd. Fili never went into the upstairs room with a dwarrowdam; Kili went practically every night.

A few weeks into Kili’s newfound wild freedom, Fili took Kili aside. “Brother… you understand, yes, that you need to be careful?”

Kili, with more than a few drinks in him, blinked at his elder brother. “Careful about what?”

“Children, for one. Disease, for another. And your heart, for a third.” Fili folded his arms, looking stern, and Kili abruptly realized he was taller than his older brother, topping out an inch or two over Fili’s stout height. It made Kili angry, to see his brother lecturing him about matters of the heart when Fili rarely, if ever, actually had a lass for himself.

“Fili,” he said patronizingly, “I think I’m a bit more worldly than you think. Certainly more than yourself; you keep your distance from our brethren, as if you are better than the rest of us.”

“Wiser than the rest of you, you mean,” Fili growled.

The words set Kili’s temper aflame, and he shoved Fili back against the wall. “You sit at that table and pretend to be wise elders, when you’re no different than the rest of us. At least _I_ have fun with my youth, and others. Our brothers enjoy my presence, and our sisters more so!”

“You’re going to get hurt, Kili. You’re barely of age as it is; you know not what it means to truly lay with someone you respect and admire,” Fili lectured.

Kili sneered at his brother. “You’re merely jealous, Fee, because you cannot unbend your stiff neck to actually enjoy the world around you.”

 

* * *

 

For weeks, Fili would try to lecture Kili again, and each time Kili sent Fili away with harsher and harsher words. Finally, their mother intervened on Fili’s behalf, which only drove Kili to cold silence. Fili’s pointed sentences and their mother’s sharp tongue drove Kili more and more away, staying out later and later and growing wilder and wilder. There were not so very many women, in their race, but there were enough, and each knew her own mind and were lusty enough to enjoy sex. Kili enjoyed sex himself, and it seemed as if he had a never-ending stream of dwarrowdams willing to bed him. He took his brother’s advice on protection, though; even if he was just the ‘spare’ prince, his children would still be political pawns, and he knew better than to have a child now.

He never lacked for female companionship, though. Often he had two or three lasses hanging around him in the wee hours of the morning, when he was deep in his cups, and they could fight and bicker over who would share his bed. The men around would snicker and waggle their eyebrows, thumping Kili on the back, encouraging him with rough words and crude suggestions.

One night, there was a newcomer – one of the noble dwarrowdams, from a respected family, obviously there to look in at Kili. While Kili certainly had had other women of her social class pay attention to him, she was – beautiful. Amazing. Her beard was thick and soft around her chin, her eyes sharp and ears large, her hips wide and her bosom plentiful. And she would not give him the courtesy of her time, let alone her companionship between the sheets of a bed.

He courted her aggressively, showering her with trinkets he bought by trading his kills in the market, praising her and falling over himself to cater to her whims. Just as she started looking upon him more favorably, however, Fili – who, at this point, had given into the cold stalemate between himself and his younger brother – decided to step in.

 

* * *

 

“Lady Miral is not someone you should get involved with.”

Kili looked up from his work – he was stitching an intricate beaded pattern on the soft rabbit-skin cloak he’d made by hand – and frowned at Fili. “Shouldn’t you be at the forge, brother?” he asked snidely. “Thorin and Dwalin rarely let you out of their sight.”

“Erva told me that you’ve been panting after Lady Miral, and that’s something you should not do.”

Kili frowned at Fili. “She’s been approaching _me_ , brother. You cannot tell me that you’d pass up a tumble in the sheets with a fine dam such as she.”

“You will regret it,” Fili continued, as if Kili hadn’t even spoken. “It’s not – this parade of dwarrowdams is only going to hurt you. You think you’ve made all these friends, Kili, but you don’t know these people you drink with at all. They are not good friends. You ought to cut back, start acting like a prince of Erebor instead of a common miner.”

Kili flushed, lip curling in anger. “And who are you to lecture me? Poor pathetic Fili, who no one will talk to and everyone ignores? Who spends his days with the elders because he has no friends his own age? The people love me, Fili, and enjoy my time with them. The same cannot be said for _you_.”

Now Fili flushed with rage, and he stepped forward, fists clenched, before he took in a deep breath and blew it out. “The people love watching a prince act a fool,” he growled. “And you oblige them because you _are_ a fool, a young fool who thinks with his dick and has not a serious thought in his head!”

Kili launched himself at Fili, the cloak and beadings falling to the floor as he slammed Fili back against the doorway. With an inarticulate growl, Fili slugged Kili back.

 

* * *

 

Sporting a split lip and quite a few bruises from his fight with Fili, Kili made his way to the pub and immediately located Miral, sitting like a queen on a stool, surrounded by two other dwarrowdams. All had been flirting with the dwarves around them, and Kili could not stop his helpless smile when he saw her eyes travel over to him.

Later in the evening, when both she and he had drank far more than perhaps was wise, Miral took Kili’s hand and led him to the rooms upstairs, followed by the jeering and leering of the dwarves still drinking that late (or early, really). Kili was eager, excited, and proud that she had chosen him finally.

She was soft in all the right places, and muscle lay thick in her thighs and her arms. He laved at her breasts with his tongue, tasting the heavy weight of them, the thick nipples and large areola. His nimble fingers traveled over the thickness of her belly, the slight pudge there, delving between her thighs to stroke, light and quick and teasing, over her center. She sighed and moaned, and made no move to undress him the way he had reverently undressed her, but he was too focused on the soft, dark hair over her arms and legs, and the thatch of it at her vulva. He murmured praises as he undid his trousers, pulled the rough covering over his member, and used his fingers to excite her. She seemed content to lie back and allow him to tend to her, and he was more than willing to explore her depths, to lick and taste and nip at folds of her neck and breast, arm and ear. When he pressed against her, rubbing to get himself slick enough to enter, she reached down and squeezed.

He groaned, throwing his head back, and she hummed appreciatively as she spread her thighs and dragged him deep inside her. Perhaps it was the drink, or the sheer experience, but Kili came embarrassingly quick. Flushing with shame, he shifted to move his mouth to her genitals, which was when she snarled at him, “What good is that thick cock of yours if you cannot even pleasure a real dwarrowdam correctly?”

He stammered something – what, he did not know, because this was such a change in her behavior and actions that it thoroughly surprised him – and again made a motion to give her pleasure with other parts of his body.

“No point ignoring the scrawny rest of you if you can’t even use your only asset well,” she grumbled.

Kili spent the rest of the evening bringing her to orgasm robotically, the words echoing in his ears.

 

* * *

 

It followed him throughout the rest of the day. His ‘ _only_ ’ asset? ‘ _Scrawny_ ’ rest of you? He’d heard taunts like this before – when around some of the crueler dwarves, at a younger age.

He hadn’t heard it since he began drinking with the other dwarves.

Come nightfall, he had almost convinced himself it meant nothing. They were both drunk, enough to affect his stamina and her words. She was upset and so chose her words deliberately to hurt. There was nothing deeper behind them.

(He couldn’t stop hearing Fili’s warnings in his ears.)

When he got to the pub, she wasn’t there, but there were three other dwarrowdams, vying for his attention. The men again made noises and lewd jokes, but it all seemed a bit off. Probably just Kili’s mood, really – what he needed was a good roll in the sheets to drag him out of it.

When it was obvious Miral would not be coming, and the one dam (Riada) extremely persistent, Kili obligingly took her upstairs, to more raucous laughter that seemed crueler today than yesterday. Riada was quite obviously drunk, while he was not – he’d learned his lesson yesterday, about drinking too much and then attempting to satisfy his partner – and so he took his time undressing her, caressing the high-set and slightly less-full breasts, the wider hips, the rounded belly. He took her narrow nipples into his mouth and sucked, long and slow, until she was whining and grinding against his thigh, and then he entered her – covered, of course – in a slow, rolling motion even as he tugged lightly on her beard with teeth and fingers.

He made sure she orgasmed, long before he did – in fact, she came three times in the time it took for him to come once. He used his fingers and his cock, keeping her mouth and upper body busy with his mouth. She groaned and gasped and shrieked, and he took pleasure in her pleasure, in wringing those noises from her throat. When he came, it was intense, pumping into her limp body as she clung weakly to his shoulders and grunted.

Lying in the bed, sheets and sweat cooling in the air, she chuckled. “Just as I remembered. Miral simply has too high standards. Harder for her to overlook the ugly to get to the good part.”

Kili froze, heart stopping in his chest.

Riada clumsily patted his chest. “Don’t worry. With a cock like that, I’m sure you can find someone less picky than her to overlook the rest of you. Leave the likes of her for the real dwarves and find a lass focused on bedsport.”

 

* * *

 

Kili disappeared into the woods for a week.

 

* * *

 

When he came back, laden down with game and the hurt in his heart not lessened in the least, Fili was waiting for him.

“I do not wish to speak with you, brother. Besides, aren’t you supposed to be traveling with uncle this year? I’m sure he’s left already.”

“You worried mother, and uncle, with your little stunt. Isn’t it bad enough that you whore about and drink yourself into a stupor most nights? Do you have to put your family through this difficulty as well? Where were you?!”

Kili dumped the game onto the floor of his workshop and refused to meet Fili’s eyes, or answer Fili’s words. Instead, he took the largest of the game, an elk, and began to skin it.

“Answer me, Kili! What right do you have to treat your kin this way?” Fili snarled.

“What do you want to hear, Fili?” Kili replied, voice empty. “You want an apology? I will not give one. I am of age, and I can leave home if I so wish. I came back, did I not?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have!” Fili yelled before stalking out of the workshop.

Kili watched his brother go for a moment before turning back to the task at hand.

 

* * *

 

Days later, Kili brought the cloak he had so painstakingly made and embroidered and beaded to his mother’s house. Opening the door, he saw that Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, and Fili were sitting about the table, eating dinner and laughing uproariously.

Kili turned and left.

 

* * *

 

Later that evening, he sat alone in his small house, drinking steadily from the ale he had purchased that evening, when Fili opened the door and stopped on the threshold.

“I did not expect to see you here, brother,” Fili murmured, and whatever he had been holding in his hands he shifted it so it could not be easily seen.

Kili laughed bitterly. “Come to gloat, then? Tell me how right you were, to know that not one of them was my friend?”

Something froze on Fili’s face, but Kili didn’t care enough to keep looking. Instead, he took another deep drink from the rich ale and stared at the fire.

“Did – what happened, Kee?”

The childish nickname nearly had Kili in tears again – but he had sworn that he would do all his crying in the woods, where no one could hear and witness his shameful weakness. Instead, he bit down viciously on his tongue until blood welled in his mouth. “What does it matter what happened? You were right, and I was wrong. The fool prince has been burned and knows now not to dance in the flames.”

Fili let out a soft sigh, and then he placed his package on the table before Kili – a falchion, well-crafted and strongly made – before sitting down opposite the dark-haired dwarf. “I was wrong to call you that, and to lose my temper. I worry about you, brother-mine. Your heart is too big for your chest, and you wear your emotions on your face for all to see.”

“I am too fragile, I suppose?”

“Not fragile – well.” Fili winced, shook his head. “I suppose, yes, for a definition of the word. But, Kili, I tell you that I would rather you have your innocence than be jaded or solemn like myself. Your capacity to see the good in everyone you meet is your finest quality. And perhaps I was wrong.”

Kili did not meet Fili’s gaze as he whispered, “No, brother. You were right, and I was wrong.”

That gave Fili pause, and he shifted in his seat. “Wrong?”

“Apparently so.” Kili downed the rest of his drink and rubbed a hand over his face. “Why did you come here, Fili? Come to rub it in my face?”

Fili reached across the table and clasped Kili’s hand, forcing Kili to look up into Fili’s face. Fili, who looked so much like Frerin, the lost prince – the elder heir, the respectable dwarf who studied diligently and made his tutors proud, Thorin’s favorite. And there was pain in those blue eyes, and sorrow. “Brother, if I could take your pain onto my soul, I would,” he whispered. “I do not like to see you suffer, and I could see it on your face tonight. I came, Kili, because I have missed my brother dearly, and I wish to make amends.”

Kili swallowed his pride and buried his pain as he clenched his fingers around Fili’s hand. “I have missed you as well, Fee. And I am sorry, for speaking to you in such a way. I had no right.”

“And I had no right to lecture you,” Fili responded. “We share fault, Kili. I – made this, as a gift. For you.”

Kili looked down at the beautifully crafted sword and his face twisted. “I have nothing to repay you for this, Fili,” he said quietly. “I am – I have nothing.”

“You are my brother. That is enough,” Fili murmured. “Now, do you care to tell me what upset you? Will you let me make it better?”

Kili laughed bitterly, glancing down at his too-slender body, knowing he had mere stubble instead of a thick beard, a blade-sharp nose and tiny ears. “There is nothing you can do to make it better, Fili. I will simply remain celibate, as you do. Safer that way.”

Fili didn’t press, but instead patted Kili’s hand and stood up. “Tomorrow, Kili, I was wondering if I could join you in the forest?”

“The forest?” Kili repeated, confused.

“Aye. I think we should spend some time together, as brothers. And we can test out your sword there, safely.”

It took Kili a few moments, but Fili had come to him, and Kili couldn’t mope forever. So he swallowed around the hurt and the desire to simply sit there and drink himself into a stupor, and nodded with a small smile. “It would be my pleasure, Fili.”

With a warm smile, Fili left the house, closing the door behind him.

Kili dropped the expression from his face and scrubbed at his eyes with the back of a hand. So he was not attractive by dwarvish standards. He had known that from a young age. So dams were after his cock, not him, and the men knew it and laughed about it. He would have to hold his head high and walk through the town regardless.

He would just do it wiser and with clearer eyes. And he would know better than to think a lass was attracted to him, now.


End file.
